“Oh!” said Mary Frances, although she didn’t see why the dolphin had to sit on a fence to talk.
“So that there’ll be no offense!” said the dolphin, after staring at her for a while; “but to refer to the trip—have you a ticket?”
“Why, no, I don’t think I have.” Mary Frances searched in her pockets, and pulled out some ribbon, a doll’s wig, a thimble, and a piece of paper.
“That’s the ticket!” exclaimed the dolphin, pointing with his fin. “All you need to do is to sign it. Have you a pencil?”
Mary Frances searched again in her pockets, while the dolphin looked on anxiously, but couldn’t find one.
“Well, never mind; just pull out one of my whiskers,” he said. “It will write right well.”
“But I might hurt you!” cried Mary Frances.
“Not if you take that loose one,” he said, pointing with his fin.
Very gently Mary Frances pulled it, and out it came.
“Sign your name!” cried the dolphin excitedly. “Right at the end of the paper!”